


Curing the Cursed

by AlleiraDayne



Series: The End [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Curses, F/M, Fluff, Magic, Nicknames, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Witch Curses, sex as a cure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 13:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15292650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: On her way back to the bunker, Natalie receives an urgent phone call from Sam.





	Curing the Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> I might have skipped ahead like a year in "The End", my SPN longfic that I’ve yet to even begin posting. But this “sex-as-a-cure” trope got my head spinning a few weeks ago and I wanted to give it a shot. So here it is!

 

Sage. Rat tails. Bones from birds of prey. A little more dead-man's blood. Never knew when another nest might crop up. Paint. Somehow, they had managed to get so low on paint, they'd nearly run out. And of all the things they lacked at the bunker, sulfur. They'd encountered enough dark magic, how had--

 _Sweet Dreams_ roused Natalie from her thoughts, and she snatched her phone from the dashboard to cease its endless buzz.

“This is Natalie.”

The roar of the Barracuda faded with a decrescendo as she let out of the accelerator. On the phone, a nervous voice hesitated with a deep breath before responding. “Hey, Natalie.”

 _Natalie_.

She had but one person in her life that still called her by her proper name. Natalie reared from her phone and checked the screen to find an unknown number angled across the top. And though she failed to recognize that number, Sam’s quavering voice sounded on the other end of the line. With her mind scrambling to pin down a single question amongst millions to ask, Natalie settled for the simplest.

“Sam?”

The signal faded and returned as Natalie switched radio towers a few miles south of the bunker. Sam's voice broke through and she caught the second half of his response. “… could use your help. When will you be back?”

Natalie checked the next cross street before replying. “Couple minutes, stepped out for some materials we were getting short on. Why? Is this your emergency phone?”

“… yeah, I just need your help,” was all she heard of his reply.

“Is Dean there? If it's an emergency, you should go to the hospital.”

Static lingered before Sam said, “… don’t think... doctor... help... this one. Dean... neither of us... want that.”

If neither a doctor nor Dean couldn't help him, who could? “Um… alright, can you hold on for five minutes?”

More static preceded his response. "... think so... hurry… need you… be in my room.”

The call ended with a perfunctory click and Natalie regarded her phone as if it had bitten her. Strange. If it could wait for her to return to the bunker, then it couldn’t be a huge emergency. But then why use the backup phone?

Within five minutes, Natalie pulled the Barracuda into the garage of the bunker, stopping short with a chirp of the tires. Not keen on wasting any time, she bolted from the car and down the hallway to the library.

“Hey, Nat. Sam’s looking for you. He left his phone out here…”

Elizabeth held Sam’s phone over her shoulder and Natalie grabbed it as she passed, headed for the residence hall.

“Hello to you too, Natty,” Dean called, but Natalie paid him no mind as she headed straight to the kitchen. There she picked up to a trot, darting around the corner for the residence quarters.

Near the end of the hall, Sam’s door stood shut, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. What had him holed up in his room? She ran the last hundred feet and grasped the door knob only to find it locked. As awkward as the situation had turned out to be thus far, Natalie failed to shake the feeling that something terrible had happened.

“Sam?” she called as she pounded on the door. “Open up, it’s Natalie.”

The knob clicked but the door moved not an inch. After a second's hesitation, Natalie barged through, fearing the worst.

Except Sam sat on the edge of his bed, hands in his lap and no worse for wear.

Natalie shut the door with a soft  _snict_ , eyes glued to Sam’s. “What’s going on?”

A bright pink blush colored Sam’s cheeks so deep, he matched the plaid of his shirt. “I’ve… got a problem. Something happened while out I was grabbing lunch this afternoon.”

Natalie eyed him head to toe but found not a scratch on him. What in God’s name had happened that demanded her, and only her, attention? “Are you okay?”

Sheepish, Sam averted his gaze and stared at his lap. A deep frown creased his lips and etched worry lines into his forehead. Jesus, he was a wreck. Guilt and shame emanated from his hunched shoulders in waves, and Natalie’s heart ached for him.

“I think someone cursed me,” he muttered.

Mouth agape, Natalie didn’t trust her own ears. “What? Who? And how? What curse? And why haven’t you told anyone else?”

For a moment, Sam appeared to debate his next words. Then, with a resigned sigh, he chose not to speak at all and instead, stood.

A joke. It had to be. Some sort of prank, a long con she had lost sight of weeks ago. Natalie checked over her shoulder to get the jump on them but found no one there. She returned her attention to Sam, who stood still at the side of his bed, patient with reverent hands hung at his sides.

And then she saw it. All ten inches of it straining against his pants. Though she slept beside his naked body most nights, Natalie gaped at his bulging erection. A second passed, then two, before she shook her head with a rough guffaw.

“You called me on your backup phone because you forgot your main phone in the library.”

Sam nodded, his blush spreading to his neck. Though she tried, Natalie failed to prevent the grin that spread across her lips.

“And you didn’t want to go back to the library with Dean and Elizabeth out there to see your…”

“Obnoxious hard-on, yes, Natalie, that’s correct,” Sam hissed.

Natalie held up a hand in her defense as she set his phone on his desk.  _Natalie_. Again, he referred to her by her first name. And she knew Sam’s pure intentions backed his choice to call her such. But, given Elizabeth’s liberal use of “Nat” and Dean’s creative, if embarrassing “Natty”, she had hoped that by now Sam might feel comfortable with referring to her by something more intimate.

“Well?” Sam interrupted her thoughts. “Do you have any ideas? I’m not sure what we should do…”

With his thought unfinished, Natalie pondered Sam’s predicament a little further. It occurred to her that this might be his latest reprisal. After all, she had embarrassed him in a bar full of people for her last prank. But when she searched his wide eyes, that possibility vanished. “I do have an idea. And I think you do, too. But, honestly, if you wanted to bang in the middle of the day, you could have just asked.”

Crestfallen, Sam slumped back onto the bead. “No, Natalie, you don’t get it. This isn’t normal.”

Normal? What wasn’t normal about an unexpected stiffy? “If you’re so embarrassed, why didn’t you just take care of it in the bathroom? Or right here?”

Sam eyed the trash bin beside his desk. “I did.”

The familiar sting of embarrassment crept across her own cheeks as Natalie imagined Sam jerking off in his bedroom. She wondered if he sat at his desk or lay in his bed. Did he use his phone at all? What kind of porn did he watch, if any?

“Three times.”

Her rambling brain screeched to a halt, both feet slammed on the brakes. “Three?” she repeated.

Sam’s eyes darted to the trash bin once more and Natalie followed to find it full of tissue. “I figured if I couldn’t relax like I normally do when I pop a random boner, I’d rub one out instead. Three piles of tissue later and, as you can see, I’m still sporting wood.”

Despite his admittedly painful situation, Natalie couldn’t help but laugh again. One final step closed the space between them, her knees touching his. “Some people might enjoy that. On both ends.”

A mischievous grin crooked his lips as Sam parted his legs and grasped her backside. With a rough tug, he pulled her flush to his chest, and his lips brushed hers as he spoke. “Should we find out? Curse or no, I’m not sure how else to take care of it.”

Natalie breathed a soft sigh as she knelt between his thighs, “I know where we can start, at least.”

Ever the gentleman, Sam stopped her before her knees reached the floor. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, I want to,” she whispered as she smoothed a hand over the bulge in his pants. “I want to taste you again.”

Sam groaned despite his protest, but a prolonged flex gave him away, strained against his pants. “Fuck, Natalie, I want that, too.”

Beneath his shirt, she tore away his belt and tossed it to the floor. His button and zipper fell with ease to reveal black and red boxer briefs. Conformed to the bulge of his erection, they left little to the imagination. The desire to touch, to feel him again overwhelmed Natalie, aroused by the sight of Sam aching with need.

“What if this doesn’t work?”

A coy smile curled her lips as she looked up to find Sam starting at her, eyes wide and lips parted. Rapid, shallow breaths failed to regulate the rise and fall of his chest, an unsteady cadence, and a sheet of sweat gathered at the hollow of his neck.

Natalie licked her lips as the anticipation pooled between her thighs. “Then we’ll just have to keep trying.”

Her fingertips pried at the waistband of his briefs and teased the skin of his hips. But the sudden force with which Sam grasped her shoulders startled her and she snatched her hands away from his body. When she looked to his angled glare, Natalie hesitated. “What’s wrong?”

Sam attempted to speak twice before finding his thoughts. “I’m… I’m not sure this is a good idea. What if you end up cursed, too?”

Natalie had considered that, but grinned despite Sam’s concerns. “I’m willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not,” he interrupted. “This could be serious.”

Though he wasn’t wrong, Natalie struggled to agree. “If it was that serious, you would have told Dean. And between you two and Elizabeth, you would have found an alternative cure. Instead of calling me. On your burner. With your desperate pleas for help.”

When Sam said nothing, Natalie slipped from his grasp and returned her fingers to his skin beneath the hem of his shirt. “You called me because you wanted to try this. You expect me to believe you did absolutely no research before deciding it was safe?”

Sam's mouth worked with wordless little moans and sighs, “I did,” he breathed, “I tried to focus for two hours… but all I found was a variation on the love spell.”

“And?” Natalie asked as she fingered the deep lines of his hips, “What did that say?”

The sheets of his bed gathered beneath Sam’s white-knuckled fists, “Nothing about transferring the curse during… during the cure. And that the cure was quite basic. Obvious. Not that it ever came right out and said sex was it.”

“But maybe it’s that simple,” Natalie suggested, “You should trust yourself and that magnificent brain of yours more often.”

That seemed to assuage his concerns, for Sam laughed a short sigh, “I know.”

With one last check, Natalie asked, “Want me to keep going?”

A second’s hesitation held Sam still, but his deviant smile returned, and, with a vigorous nod, he acquiesced. Though his need appeared insistent, Natalie had to tease him. At least a little bit. Draw out his pleasure a minute longer, hear him beg for it. She loved hearing his pleas for release.

Delicate fingertips brushed the base of his cock, then smoothed along his length to the engorged tip. Beneath her touch, Sam writhed with a roll of his hips. “Natalie,” he sighed, “please. I can’t stand it anymore, just do something.”

 _Natalie_. “Why do you call me that?”

With a bewildered shake of his head, Sam asked, “Call you what?”

She sighed with a roll of her eyes. “Natalie. Nobody calls me that. Maybe once or twice after introductions, but most people call me Nat. Liz does. And Dean calls me Natty, but that’s because he’s… Dean. He’s the big brother I never had.” She paused then, her eyes narrowed on Sam. “Does that bother you? My very platonic friendship with Dean?”

Sam shook his head with vehement disagreement, long brown locks freed from behind his ears. “No, not at all. I just didn’t want to assume. Like you said, that’s Dean’s way, and you and Liz have been friends most of your lives. We…”

“Have been sleeping with each other for six months, Samwise. See, even I have one for you,” she teased as she continued to finger the waistband of his underwear.

“I know, and it’s great, I love it,” he laughed, “I’m working on it. Until I figure it out, you’ll have to be okay with Natalie.”

A sardonic smile spread across her lips. “That’s okay. I was only curious,” she said as she returned to the issue between his thighs. “So. This curse. You jerked off three times and did two hours of research?”

Sam followed her gaze to his groin with a hum of amusement. “Yeah. About that… it’s been a few hours now. I think Dean and Elizabeth might be getting suspicious.”

Natalie met his eyes as she teased the crown of his cock, her thumb smoothing the meeting of head and shaft. “Well, then,” she started as she licked her lips, “We should figure out the cure before they send a search party.”

A whimper bust from Sam's throat as though unbidden. That exquisite sound, his voice high and breathless, enthralled her, mesmerized. She imagined watching him struggle like that for hours, her name the only prayer on his lips. Short-lived, that fantasy, for Sam’s needs took control. In a rush of impatience, he grasped the waistband of his jeans and boxers, then stripped them to his knees.

No matter how many times they slept together, showered together, or fucked, Natalie never knew where to look first on Sam’s naked body. The obvious—his massive erection mere inches from her face—felt  _too_  obvious. She would get there. In time. But other parts as delicious as his cock deserved her attention as well.

Natalie feasted on the sight of her favorite part of his body, a soft swathe of dark hair beneath the hem of his shirt leading her gaze to his hips. Son of a bitch, but Sam had an Adonis belt unlike any she’d ever seen. Deep lines etched his hips as if from marble, angled down to the shorn hair of his groin. From there, her gaze drifted to his thighs: powerful, but lean and agile.

Natalie had half a mind to keep staring, but Sam’s desperate need for release demanded her attention. His cock flexed, a heavy twitch that persisted until he grasped the base. “Dammit, Natalie, quit teasing me.”

“But I like it,” she replied as she smoothed his thighs, pausing at his hips. “I like watching you writhe when I touch you.”

Sam grunted, a sound more animal than human, but a grin parted his pursed lips. “I know, and normally I wouldn’t complain. I love that about you,” he said as the warmth of his massive palm cupped her cheek. “But this isn’t… this is so far beyond normal.”

Natalie leaned into his touch, insistent for more, but instead of his usual gentle nature, a different side of Sam emerged, a side she had not yet seen. He gathered her hair at the nape of her neck and grasped as he stood. As his pants fell to his feet, Natalie rose to her knees, her lips a scarce inch shy of the crown of his cock. “Please, Natalie, I can’t handle it any longer.”

God, but he trembled. Must be quite the curse. The control he had managed to express thus far left Natalie speechless. And with his hand pressing at the back of her head, her own patience wore thin. So, at the base of his cock she grasped him, the tip angled to her lips. Parted, they met his heated flesh, and her tongue brushed the back of the head with one tantalizing pass.

Sam might as well have wept.

The shudder that coursed through his entire body radiated through her hands as Natalie hollowed her cheeks and sucked. A shrill gasp rent the air from above, and she looked to find Sam’s head thrown back, mouth agape and jaw working. Muted mantras fell from his lips,  _Natalie, yes, more, God, that feels so good, suck on it, suck my cock_. And at the back of her head, he urged her further, a firm press that sent the tip of his erection down her throat.

Relaxed, Natalie breathed through her nose until she reached his pelvis, then reared back with a strong reflex. Sam’s high whines and soft moans filled his room as his cock fell from her lips with a lascivious pop. With her own moan, she begged to God for the grace to hear those songs of his praise and pleasure for the rest of her days.

Between her lips Natalie returned him, a gentle touch that earned her a grunt of frustration. Sam’s eyes snapped to hers, wide and bright with need. Sweat ran down his face, his neck, and soaked the collar of his shirt. In one swift motion, he stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside.

Like the statue of David on its pedestal, Sam towered over her, and Natalie gawked despite his whimpers of desperation. Her gaze consumed him from hip to stomach to chest, a feast for her eyes. How lucky a woman she considered herself to have met and fallen in mutual love, admiration, and trust with Sam fucking Winchester.

Trust. Not only in Sam, but herself as he gripped her hair a little tighter, an insistence to continue. And as Sam had said, in a normal situation, his patience knew no bounds. Natalie had teased him with relentless lust at times. But this? No, this hard-on had Sam enthralled, captive in his own body. A tiny part of her wished she had the language of the curse. To study…

Sam rolled his hips and tugged her hair with another whimper as he begged. “Natalie, please, this is driving me insane.”

Without question, Natalie wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and sucked once more. Sam gasped, his curses and praise mingled in a slurry of babble. As she bobbed her head, slow strokes that gained speed, Sam thrust in time, her rhythm matched. And that gyration of hips, every flex and release of muscle in his core pulsed through her hands, her lips, her tongue, until one hard jerk sent him down her throat again.

Prepared, Natalie remained still. She had learned over the last few months since  _that_  day, before the djinn. And each experience clued her in, little hints that revealed the places and touches that made Sam Winchester tick. All it took this time was the perfect placement of her tongue at the tip of his cock where the head met the shaft. One smooth swipe, and Sam’s hips rocked as though electrified.

A deep breath filled her lungs as Sam withdrew, and Natalie moaned as she returned to her rhythm. With one hand she stroked as the other grasped a muscled thigh. An urge to watch, to witness his pleasure drove her attention up to find his wide eyes. There she held him, enraptured as he by his pleasure. Sweat rolled down his neck to his chest, and his jaw worked as a fresh surge of arousal swelled his erection.

“Shit, Natalie, I’m… keep going, I’m gonna come.”

His grip tightened in her hair as his hips shuddered, but Natalie maintained her rhythm, determined and eager. Sam seldom took time for himself, their work as hunters all-consuming. If Natalie could give him a small reprieve from the chaos in his life, her own pleasure would be equally sated.

The subtle warning of Sam's breath, caught in his throat, alerted her. With her focus locked on him, Natalie bobbed her head faster and stroked his length in time. Tongue and lips worked in unison to see him to his climax, and his cock swelled in response. Then the long moan of release burst from Sam's chest and a hard twitch of his cock sent his cum down her throat.

Natalie moaned, and heat gathered between her thighs, underwear soaked through to her jeans. The sights and sounds of Sam's climax nearly finished her without trying. Twitches and flexes of his cock lingered as she held him in her mouth and sucked until he begged her to stop. With one full swallow, Natalie finished, then released him with a long, languid suck.

Sam collapsed to his knees, and without a word, planted his lips on hers as his arms enveloped her. Natalie squawked, surprised to find him uncaring of any lingering cum but returned his affection all the same. Against her lips, he trembled, and though that must be a part of the curse, she relished the sensation. And despite the curse, she couldn't help but wonder if he had at least enjoyed any of it. But she didn't wonder long; his kiss deepened with breathless moans and small whimpers, and his tongue laved over hers.

In a gasp for air, Sam parted from their kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. “I don't know what to say.”

Natalie hummed a laugh through her nose. “I don't either. But that seemed pretty intense.”

He nodded, and their noses brushed as he pressed another quick kiss to her lips. “Whether it’s the curse or you, I can’t tell. But I’m gonna go with you,” he said with a coy smile.

Of course, he would. Sam never missed an opportunity to woo her, whether with words, a song, or even the clichéd flower. “I try,” she jested. “But I didn't do anything different this time, so I'm betting the curse helped.”

Sam’s laugh filled the room as he said, “Fair enough. Although, I am afraid it didn't take care of the problem.”

Before Natalie spoke further, Sam grasped her by the ass and hauled her up as he stood. She squawked again, surprised despite the countless times his massive arms had hefted her with ease.  He laid her on the bed and a trail of kisses followed from her ear to the hollow of her neck. He straightened, and Natalie saw the rise of his cock still standing erect.

Boots and clothes kicked aside to join the pile, Sam kneeled between her thighs. When he licked his lips, Natalie sucked in a breath and prepared herself for what he had in store. Sam never received without giving.

“Since my own orgasms haven't taken care of this curse, I think I know what will,” he started as he unbuttoned her shirt. “But the need has subsided for now.” The heat of his hands found her flesh and trailed a delicate touch from her neck to the valley between her breasts.

“Are-are you sure?” she managed through a short breath. “This curse seems demanding.”

A gentler hand raised her to sitting, then reached to the center of her back and flicked apart the clasp of her bra. Another wicked grin crooked his lips as Sam slipped her shirt and straps from her shoulders, the garments tossed aside, forgotten. “I think the buildup might be worth it…”

The cool air of Sam’s room graced her skin, gooseflesh raised in its wake. The gleam in Sam’s eyes flashed with a flame so intense, Natalie shivered. As much as she enjoyed teasing Sam, he enjoyed pleasuring her for as long as she wished—or tolerated. And in his hands, her pleasure knew no bounds.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your…”

The hesitation in his breath lingered a moment before Natalie finished his thought. “My tits?” She flexed her biceps, breasts pressed together between her arms.

Sam scrunched his nose. “Sounds kinda vulgar.”

“Doesn’t bother me. Just another nickname,” she said with a smirk.

Sam thought a second as he laughed a hum through his nose, and his absent-minded thumbs drew small circles on her hips. “Breasts, then,” he whispered as his lips brushed a taut nipple. “It’s what I’m comfortable with.”

Natalie sucked in a gasp, the connection so sudden it drove any complaints from her mind. And Sam allowed her naught but a second to recover as he enveloped the peak of her breast with his lips. Her back arched with a long, skyward moan as his tongue laved her flesh. Jesus, but this man’s tongue. Heaven, heaven on earth. Nothing else compared.

Almost nothing.

Her fingers carded through his hair as Natalie writhed, and Sam’s massive hands smoothed her back. “Fuck, that feels good,” she breathed. “Keep going.”

Sam obeyed her every command, as always. He tugged at her breast and sucked until she fell from his lips with a lewd pop. A coy smile met her gaze as Natalie watched, enthralled by his hazel stare, the greens and blues and golds endless in their depths. A girl could lose herself in there. Between his kaleidoscope eyes and luscious lips, she succumbed to his will.

Pebbled skin rose around her nipple as Sam gasped, cooled by the heat of his breath. He then placed a trail of kisses between her breasts, an expert in a few short weeks on all her favorite spots as well. And since then, neither breast had been left wanting. Natalie’s grip tightened in his hair, gasps and whimpers extracted by his lips that graced her skin. When he enveloped her other breast, she moaned a long sigh so loud she worried they might be overheard.

But that concern lasted no more than a second. Sam withdrew from her again, a sudden release that shocked Natalie to her core. And another trail of kisses revealed his intentions. The button of her jeans popped apart with a flick of his fingers, followed by the fall of her zipper. Natalie laid back on the bed, coaxed by his devious stare, and his fingers hooked into the hem of her pants. There was no disobeying that command. Not when Sam Winchester’s plan was to eat you out until you begged him to stop.

Natalie, ever obedient, raised her hips as Sam stripped her bare. And then he returned his gaze to hers, accompanied by that same devious smile, one she hoped might survive the cure for this curse.

And then her world ceased to exist.

Sam’s long moan shattered reality into a million tiny pieces as he devoured her. Her thighs parted without thought, and his tongue feasted as Natalie repeated his name, her mantra. When she writhed beneath him, he pinned her in place with his arms wrapped around her hips.

“Fuck, Sam, this… holy shit... that is so good,” she moaned, fingers buried in his hair. “How… God damn, keep going, just like that.”

His gaze met hers again, and she felt his smile return, pressed against her flesh. And then his tongue roamed, flattened against her swollen clit to rub small, deliberate circles.

A part of her witnessed this sensation, as if separated from her body. Another part felt it, whole and intense and exhilarating as her back arched. And last, Natalie imagined Sam as she squeezed shut her eyes, his head buried between her thighs and his tongue flattened against her clit. A long, high moan burst from her chest after a deep gasp, and though the bunker yet housed other occupants, a desperate need to scream gripped her throat.

That wail of a moan seemed to encourage Sam, more deliberate passes of his tongue tasting her arousal and teasing her clit. His moans mirrored her own, a song punctuated by gasps and grunts. Nonsense fell from her lips as Natalie tried to encourage him, but if he heard she could not tell.

_Bless me Father, for I have sinned._

The familiar heat of her arousal screamed for release, wound tighter than a caged animal. And Sam seemed to sense that, as his tongue swirled in relentless circles, winding her climax tighter as Natalie's chest heaved, breaths short and punctuated by high moans. So close, that end drifted within reach, sharp and focused and  _right there, oh my God, Sam, I'm gonna come, yes, right there, faster, please—_

Sam's lips locked, sealed on her clit as he sucked. And then a fullness spread her core, flesh parted as he plunged two long fingers into her cunt. In the blinding brightness of a million stars, time stopped. Natalie froze, suspended with her back arched, thighs clenched, and her mouth agape in a silent moan. Breath eluded her, none found in her tired lungs, and no thought existed in her mind but the euphoria that encompassed her entire body. That warmth of climax achieved ravished her existence, Sam's relentless desire the means to her end. And in a final stroke of her cunt, Natalie collapsed in a breathless wail of pleasure.

But Sam never stopped. His fingers continued as did his tongue, every bit of her arousal his demand. Aftershocks rocked her body, summoned by him, by his endless need, by this terrible curse that, the longer it lasted, the more Natalie wanted it for future use…

“Son of a bitch, Sam, stop!” Natalie gasped. She gripped his hair and wrenched his head back, his lips coated in her cum. Red cheeks and his impish smile stoked her arousal as if it had not been sated. She muttered a prayer when he withdrew and crawled into the bed beside her, his fingers sucked clean with his own mouth.

“Can I kiss y—”

Natalie silenced him with her lips planted firm on his. His long moan died in her mouth a whimper, Sam pressed close to her side. Long swipes of her tongue tasted lingering traces of her own arousal on his. And though that had not discouraged her from kissing him—she knew he deserved it—she wondered what he thought of that. He had asked first. Kind, caring, and empathetic as ever, Sam managed to be even more courteous with sex.

When one of his massive hands grasped her hip, Natalie moaned into him, then parted from their kiss. Sam appeared conflicted, as his eyes searched hers for answers to an unasked question. When he remained silent she asked, “Are you okay?”

“I…” Sam started, but faltered. “This is amazing. But I… need more,” he admitted with a sheepish frown as he pulled her closer for another kiss. “So much more.”

Flush to his body he held her, and Natalie moaned again as he squeezed her ass. Her hips rolled, an unbidden reaction to his words, to his greedy fingers, to his cock pressed between her thighs, coated in her cum.

“Please,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along her jaw and neck. “I want you, Natalie. I need you.” Sam’s weight rolled into her as he continued to ply her with kisses and grasping hands.

And then she bucked.

A swift thrust of her hips flipped Sam to his back where Natalie pinned him to the bed, his hips straddled and her hands planted on his broad chest. Sam’s shocked gasp rent the air, an inhalation of breath that released in a long, low growl as he grabbed her ass. Natalie regarded him, consumed every inch and committed the sight to memory.

Sam’s long hair, hazel eyes, and crooked grin had endeared him to her within days of meeting. As her nails dragged over his shoulders, along his chest, and followed the dusting of hair to his abs, Natalie matched his grin with her own. “You need me, hm?”

When Sam opened his mouth to reply, nothing but a whimper escaped his lips. Natalie rolled her hips and stroked the length of his erection with her sopping cunt. His own hips rolled as his nails bit into the supple flesh of her ass, desperate for more. “I do. I need you. God, I need you so bad, Natalie.”

His voice cracked under the strain, and Natalie almost pitied him. Again, a part of her wanted to test his limits, but given Sam’s affliction, she resolved to asking him later. After she cured him. And she would. Oh, how she would cure him.

Between her thighs, Natalie wrapped her fingers around Sam’s cock and stroked, base to engorged head. And Sam’s eyes rolled back as his jaw dropped, a silent moan that she had heard many times before. On her knees, she rose as she angled the tip of his cock to her cunt, and his eyes snapped to her center, mouth agape.

“Look at me.”

When Sam dragged his eyes along her body, Natalie shivered. But he did as she ordered, hazel eyes locked on hers, and she smiled. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Alright. Don’t move,” she ordered.

Sam nodded with a vigorous shake of his head.

And so, Natalie lowered herself, the tip of Sam’s cock enveloped. Red lines followed in the wake of his nails and he bit his bottom lip, a string of moans and whimpers hummed through his nose. She had to tease him one last time, draw out his pleasure so that at least his orgasm matched, if not surpassed, her own.

“Shit, that feels good,” Sam groaned.

Natalie moaned with him as she continued her descent, slow and steady, each inch filling her, spreading her. An overflow of sensation blanked her mind until she settled on a memory not so distant. Natalie had found Sam’s interest in her peculiar at first. But months later, that mystery had solved itself. Her petite frame drove Sam wild. Though Natalie found her shape a little too stocky rather than feminine, Sam disagreed for multiple reasons. But one in particular had been their drastic difference in stature.

As the last inch filled her, that sensation culminated with a wild moan as Natalie arched her back, pelvis to pelvis with Sam. He moaned with her, their pleasure a song so familiar, memorized. That song harkened back to their first time together, in her room, with Sam so nervous. While he had found Natalie’s body alluring, he had admitted his own size—both in overall stature and elsewhere—worried him. But she had shown him his concerns were unfounded, Natalie equally attracted to his stature and more than capable of handling his size.

Natalie rose to her knees again with a long, slow stroke of his cock, then lowered as she leaned over Sam, bodies flush. Her breasts squeezed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, one hand in her hair, the other encircling her hips. And when she tried to stroke him again, he held her fast, pinned to his long torso. When another attempt failed, Natalie’s glare found his impish grin had returned.

“And here I trusted you. Do I have to take over?”

Her own coy smile curled her lips. “I wanted to see what might happen with this curse if we draw it out too long.”

Sam hummed a pleasured moan. “You want me to take it out on you. Is that it?”

“Maybe,” Natalie taunted with a short roll of her hips. “Think you can do that?”

His eyes narrowed as Sam searched her face, but for what she had no clue. He grasped her by the ass, one hand holding her in place. The other grasped her hair at the nape of her neck and pulled it tight. Natalie arched her back, forced to withdraw his length from her. A subtle whimper burst from her parted lips, shocked and aroused all at once. Though she struggled, Sam restrained her there, poised, readied.

And then Natalie laughed, a low rumble in her chest as Sam hesitated. “Now what? Didn’t think that far ahead, huh, cowboy?”

With a growl unlike any Natalie had ever heard from Sam, he slammed his hips against hers, his cock buried in her. She screamed a wail that keened into a moan, pain and pleasure mixed for an intense shock. That last taunt had been the final push he needed, and when he withdrew next, Sam wasted no time in thrusting back in, his hips gained speed.

Unable to focus on anything beyond Sam, Natalie’s eyes rolled back as they closed, and she relinquished the last bit of control to which she had clung. Each of his thrusts drove his cock deep, and she relished the sounds of his grunts and groans as they mingled with the smack of their bodies. Faster yet, Sam drove his hips into her, and Natalie whimpered a mess of prayers, pleas to  _keep going, yes, harder, Sam, fuck me, fuck me baby, more, give it to me, harder!_

And then the sudden emptiness snapped Natalie’s eyes open as Sam withdrew. Shoved to her side, she protested with a whine, though half-hearted. And as Sam rose to his knees, she saw in his eyes that he knew. He grasped her by the hips and hauled her to her knees as one massive hand met the center of her back. When he pressed, she acquiesced with an extended arch of her back, stretched like a cat.

“Ready?”

Natalie wiggled her hips. “You’re in charge here, cowboy.”

The engorged tip of his cock parted her sex once more, and Natalie gasped at the sudden pressure. Sam’s massive hands grasped her hips, and in one swift thrust buried his cock in her. Full once again, Natalie moaned another long, high whine as she writhed, the sheets of his bed gripped tight in her fists. The rough pace to which Sam raced wound her so tight, Natalie felt as if she might burst with the boiling heat of her arousal in that moment. No pantheon of gods, army of angels, or forces of darkness sufficed her prayers or benedictions, her blasphemes or curses, for nothing compared to the way Sam fucked her.

Once more, time slowed until each second dragged for an eternity; whether minutes or hours passed, Natalie never remembered. But between Sam’s thrusts that gained speed with his frenzied need, his greedy fingers that reached over her hip and stroked relentless circles over her clit, and his breathless moans, she wished it might never end. When Sam hauled her flush to his chest with one massive hand wrapped around her throat, she prayed for more.

“I love you,” he whispered, lips on her ear. His pace never relented, thrusts hard and fast. “I love you so much, Talie.”

 _Talie_.

Time raced to catch up, blurred by the world’s rapid turn. Natalie’s eyes popped open as the sound of his voice echoed in her mind.  _Talie_. Nobody, not a single person, had ever called her that.

“I’m… shit, I’m so close,” Sam breathed as he laid Natalie flat on the bed. The heat of him enveloped her, curled into her back, and the smell of musty books, coconut hair product, and a hint of whiskey filled her nose. “Talie, I’m gonna come.”

 _Talie_.

With her wits scattered, Natalie tried to respond, her voice marked with each of his rough thrusts. “Give it to me, Sam, come inside me.”

Once again, Sam’s breath caught in his throat as his hips stuttered. Buried deep inside her, Natalie felt the hard flexes of his cock, and the sensation tipped her over the edge of her own orgasm. The walls of her core squeezed as the heat spread across her entire body, her climax unraveled by the final thrusts of Sam’s hips. That same blinding brightness burst in flash of release, Sam’s long groan the harmony to her cry’s melody.

When the aftershocks subsided, Sam remained curled over her, his chest flush to her back. Languid kisses found purchase on her jaw, neck, shoulders, and Natalie shivered beneath his touch. When the room stopped spinning, she released the sheets of his bed and turned over her shoulder to see what was left of Sam.

Relief. Sweet relief eased the knot of his brow, the snarl of his nose. And as he collapsed beside her, the soft flesh of his cock slipped from her core, sated at last.

“Cured?”

Sam laughed through his nose as he grabbed a handful of tissue and handed it to her. With one quick pass, she cleaned what she could of his mess, then tossed the tissue into the bin. Sam mirrored her, another wad of tissue tossed for the bin before he wrapped her in his massive embrace and pulled her to his chest. “Not if you keep calling me  _cowboy_  when we fuck.”

“Ah, I see,” Natalie started. “Where did ‘Talie’ come from?”

Crimson raced across Sam’s cheeks. “I wanted a nickname for you. But Liz calls you ‘Nat’. And Dean calls you ‘Natty’. I’ve been thinking of using ‘Talie’ for a while now…”

“You put concerted effort into this?” Natalie asked.

Sheepish smile and averted eyes searched her naked body for an answer. “I did. I wanted it to fit. I definitely didn’t plan on using it at random like this. But, I blame the curse.”

Natalie sent a cursory glance to his groin, cure confirmed. “Looks like that last attempt worked. Was it at least somewhat worth it? Silver lining and all?”

“Would it creep you out if I said I wish I had the instructions for the curse?” Sam asked with a quirked brow and a crooked grin. “You know. For research purposes?”

A man after her own heart. Natalie’s coy smirk curled her lips as she lost herself once more in his endless hazel gaze.

“For research purposes.”


End file.
